


Homecoming

by Barbeauxbot



Series: Always Dragging That Horse Around: The Love, Marriage, and Everything Else In Between of Loki and Sigyn [5]
Category: Cracksmash - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barbeauxbot/pseuds/Barbeauxbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Miri1984's "Checks and Balances"  Loki returns from a two-year tour in Nornheim. Sigyn is happier to see him than she will let on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miri1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/gifts).



Her sons were two years old the first time he returned. She focused on them, even more so than normal, and tried to ignore the liquid warmth in her bones, the trembling in her belly. She saw the other wives reuniting with their husbands, by all accounts overjoyed to see them again.

She could not help but feel pity for them. That was the prospect she had faced before she and Loki had so neatly disposed of her vile betrothed. An adoring, smiling face in public and misery behind closed doors. What she had, mourning in public and… she wouldn't call it love behind closed doors, was far preferable.

If she still had anything at all behind closed doors. By the third day after the Triumph, he still had not come to her, and she began to wonder if he ever would. After all that time he courted her, her spurning him all the while, perhaps now that she had finally succumbed he was no longer interested.

No matter. She still enjoyed the freedom of being a widow and would live as she pleased. Not answering to any man.

By the fifth day she had convinced herself she was perfectly content with this and the feeling in her bones and her belly had calmed.

It was the night of the sixth day when he arrived. She had just put the boys to bed and was sitting at her vanity, plaiting her hair when a cold palm pressed over her lips and and she felt his breath on her ear.

"Leave it down."

She tried to stop her hands from trembling as she put her brush down and let go of her hair, but was unsuccessful. He chuckled softly, and she glanced up to see his reflection in the mirror. His fingers tightened over her mouth and the liquid feeling in her bones and the heat in her belly flooded back at full force. He curled his fingers into her hair and tugged upward. "Stand up," he whispered softly.

She shivered as she did so, watching his reflection in the mirror. He was watching her with naked lust, and she could feel his hand warming over her mouth. His free hand skimmed over her shift. She shivered when his fingers first touched her, but the chill soon was chased away by the rising tide of his arousal. He slid his hand around to her front, pressing his palm between her legs and grinning wolfishly.

"You missed me," he said, his voice half a whisper, half a growl.

"I thought you were not going to come," she gasped, pressing back against him. She smiled at his reflection in the mirror as she felt his hardness against her. "You missed me, too."

He pulled her shift out of the way, exposing her. She shivered and watched in the reflection as he slid his fingers into her. "You are much, much warmer than Nornheim." His lips played over her ear and she melted against him, moaning low in her throat.

He nibbled her ear, tutting teasingly as he circled her nub with his thumb. "You will wake the children if you get noisy."

She rocked her hips against him and he gasped, his fingers tightening on her. She grinned. "So either stop or ensure they will not wake." She glanced at him sidelong. "You are capable of either."

He thrust his fingers deeper into her and she could not stop from crying out. "I am not stopping," he rumbled, pushing her to bend forward.

She braced herself against the vanity, breathing hard and watching his reflection in the mirror. He kept his eyes locked on her as he freed himself, his gaze burning. She shivered and tightened her grip. "Good. I have been alone too long."

"Alone?" His lips brushed the back of her neck as he thrust into her. "Surely you have taken advantage of your widowhood, and have a list of conquests to rival even my brother's."

"No," she gasped, rocking back against him, urging him deeper. "None."

He slid his fingers over her nub, and she wailed. His reflection revealed how surprised he was to hear this, his eyes widening and his lips moving silently, trying to give voice to his thoughts. "None?"

She shook her head, unable to form words as the waves of pleasure began to crest. She dropped her head, breathing harder as he increased his pace. She shrieked and pushed back, meeting his fervor, thrilling in the feeling of his body on hers, his breath on her neck and his hands wringing ecstasy from her. Her knees shook and she wailed as he pushed her to the edge, and he followed not long after.

"Oh, my lady wife. You are glorious," he moaned into her hair, his voice thrumming.

She half-moaned, half-laughed as he withdrew from her, reaching to cup his cheek with her hand. Looking up to lock eyes with him in the mirror, she could not help the quirk of her lips. "Welcome home, my lord husband."

It was the next day, after Sigyn had locked the door to her bedchamber, claiming illness, and the two had disposed with clothes entirely, that he revisited the question.

She sat cross-legged on the bed, her hair falling over her left breast, a bowl of berries in her lap. Some she fed to him, and some she ate herself. It was a game, to see how long until he could pick up the pattern. And when he began to anticipate which she fed herself and which she fed to him, she would switch the pattern. He traced lazy circles on her knee, his long, lean body stretched over her bed, his eyes dancing with mirth at her game.

"Perhaps they are simply respecting your grief," he smirked.

She slipped a berry between his lips and laughed, not bothering to hide her scorn. "Hardly. The first showed up not two days after you left."

He arched an eyebrow. She waited until he had swallowed before she fed him again. "The first?"

"Yes. Apparently I have become very beautiful indeed since you saw me last." She rolled her eyes and ate a berry herself.

His eyes wandered over her body, and his fingers followed his gaze to brush over the stretch marks on her belly. "I would not have believed it, had anybody thought to warn me. I did not think it was possible for you to be more beautiful."

She stuck out her tongue and ate another. "That did not stop them either, you know. Apparently it would be an honor to raise Theoric's sons."

His eyes darkened. She leaned forward to kiss him lightly before popping a berry in his mouth. "How many?"

She shrugged. "Does it matter? I will not see any of them."

He eyed her skeptically. "I have not asked for this. It will not repay your debt."

She ate a berry and looked away, feigning indifference as she felt a flutter of happiness. "I know. This is more agreeable."

He opened his mouth, anticipating a berry. She giggled and ate another. He leaned over and nipped her knee instead. "Why?"

She reached down, gently rolling a berry over his stomach before slipping it into his mouth. "They are boring. You are not."

He chewed slowly, his eyes going from skeptical to heated. He reached between her legs and moved the bowl aside.

There was no more talking that day.


End file.
